Queen Of Knights (15 page)

Miles stared at her, a strange feeling swirling in his mind, but he nodded his head, realizing that no matter what form of madness held her, he would not give her up.

Then she spoke, and Miles’s mind expanded madly.  He was the second man to hear the tale of Gwendolyn’s conception, and suddenly he knew what Hughes had tried to speak of last night.  He listened to the story and heard the Druid’s prophesy.  The birds which had been coming to life within the moor’s forest had stilled when Gwendolyn spoke.  Everything had an unworldly silence which forced him to listen with his every sense to what his wife was saying.

She told him of her practicing with her father’s sword whenever she could, and of the day he had found her, and what had transpired since.  She told of the new prophesy, and of her strange new powers, and when she was finished, she stood suddenly, motioning Miles to stay where he was.

Miles watched her disappear into the cave, his mind numbed with her words.  His body was paralyzed by her revelations, and he tried to rid himself of the shock she had given him.  Was she truly mad? he wondered.

A moment later Gwendolyn appeared before him, cradling a long object wrapped in a chamois cloth.  Slowly, reverently, she laid the object at his feet.  Then she stood tall and gazed down at him.

“This is the sword of my father, the sword that shall permit me to attain knighthood.  Miles, my husband, wipe the doubt from your mind and replace it with belief.”

Gracefully, Gwendolyn knelt on the earth.  She glanced up at her husband and then over his shoulder.  Blue sky was visible through the tree branches as day arrived to Devonshire.  She unwrapped the sword and grasped its pommel.  Lifting it slowly, her eyes locked with Miles’s, and she held the longsword high.

The sun crested the horizon at that exact moment, and a lance of sunlight struck the silver shaft.  Suddenly, the forest was filled with an explosion of silver light, a ball of infinite power surrounding Gwendolyn like the cocoon of a moth.  He stared at her until he could not deny what he witnessed.  Then, slowly, he breathed the scents of the morning even as the silver cocoon spread over him, engulfing him and all that was around them.  She stood there for long minutes, her eyes never leaving his, while the power of the sword filled her entire being.

Then Miles stood, his eyes wide as he stared at his wife and the sword she held.  All questions, doubts, and wonderings were wiped from his mind in that instant, because he, too, felt the unearthly power she had unleashed.  He faced her and suddenly she lowered the sword.  The brightness faded, and Gwendolyn dropped to her knees before her new lord.

Gracefully, with the blade now in her hands, she lifted the sword’s handle to Miles.  Rather than take her offering, Miles bent and lifted Gwendolyn to her feet.  Then his hands covered hers upon the blade, and he kissed her lips gently.

“As I once gave my oath, I now affirm it, Gwendolyn, Lady of Radstock.”

Silently Gwendolyn stepped back.  “For that, and for your love, my husband, I pledge my life to you.  For together, we shall become as no other mortals before.  Take the sword, my love, and heft it.  Feel it as I have done.”

Again, light shimmered along the length of the blade.

Gwendolyn extended it to Miles, and he grasped the hilt tightly.  His eyes widened when he felt the weight of the sword, and when he raised it above his head, he knew that in his hand was something no mortal man had ever held before.

A moment later he handed the sword back to Gwendolyn.

“Come with me, my husband, for I wish us to bathe in the Pool of Pendragon, and seal our love beneath the open sky, for my mother and father to acknowledge.”

Together, they mounted their horses and rode to the pool.

There, with the birds singing, and the insects calling to them, they entered the cool waters and bathed each other before lying on the grassy carpet to once again join their bodies in a proclamation of love.

Book II

Of the Coming of Sir Eldwin,

Knight Protector of Radstock

Chapter Seven

IN
Radstock, as in many areas of England, the castle sat high above the lands, looking down upon them with either benevolence or malevolence, as was the wont' of its lord.  With the ascension of Miles to the Earldom of Radstock, the countryside had prospered under his stem but well-guided reins.

All his vassals, from serfs to men-at-arms, respected his demands of them, and knew that for them he would always be available to help and protect them.

But, for the first time since Miles had become Earl of Radstock, and since his marriage to the Lady Gwendolyn, few people saw him.  Jokes about his marriage, and the time he spent with his lady, were the usual conversations within the castle when Miles was not present.  For Miles, except rarely, was only seen at night for a few hours.  He had left the running of his lands to those men of his household he trusted implicitly, primarily his bastard brother Theodore, who, with Miles now married, would soon enter into the simplistic life of a monastery.

But the reason for Miles's absence from most eyes was far from what the people thought.  And, the few pleasurable hours Miles and Gwendolyn shared together in view of the others of the household were but a fraction of their day together.  Yet, though many believed the newlyweds saw each other for so little, in reality, Miles, Gwendolyn, James, and Arthur, spent many long and arduous hours together.

They would rise long before the sun, and after eating a light repast, would venture into the privacy of a portion of the wooded land near the castle, to begin a day that, had any other eyes witnessed it, would cause a furor among both peasant and nobility.

But no one, save the four present, ever witnessed the events-and because of that, Gwendolyn's training in the knightly arts proceeded smoothly.

Shortly after the lord's arrival in Radstock with his wife, and after the week's celebration in honor of it, Miles had given orders to have a special chamber built, deep beneath the earthworks of the castle.  It was more a huge pit than a room.  Its only light came from burning torches, but that light was sufficient for the purposes intended.

The building of this chamber would take six months, and because of both time and Gwendolyn's impatience, Miles had taken his wife from Radstock a bare month after they'd arrived.  They went to his lands in Wales, to a place far from the regular roads, and almost inaccessible to any who knew not where they were.

It was the castle of his great-great-grandfather, Bornmorwyn of Abergavenny, who, because of his strangely perverse nature, and his hatred of all things Norman, had hidden his castle-keep high in the hills overlooking the river Wye.  The old stone-and-bailey castle was far from any life, and because of its seclusion, offered the best opportunity to train Gwendolyn.

So the newly married couple, along with their twin squires, Gwendolyn's personal servant, and ten members of Miles's household staff made the five-day journey into Wales, just as the summer grew to its most fierce some intensity.

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The procession moved on solemnly, cresting yet another hill before stopping.  Gwendolyn, breathing the sweetly scented air of the valley, gazed with wonder at its emerald expanses.

"It is so different from Devonshire and Radstock," she said.  "So mountainous, so filled with life."

"You will learn to hate it," Miles warned her with a stern look.

"Because of what you have in store for me?" "Exactly.  "

"You do not frighten me, Husband.  I have waited all my life for this," she whispered fiercely.

Miles raised his arm, his index finger pointing high and to the south.  "Do you see that peak?"

Gwendolyn followed the direction of his pointing finger, letting her eyes race along the mountains, going higher and higher, until at last she was staring at the highest peak in the valley.  Far above her, she saw a small dark speck on its crest.

"And the keep upon it," she answered.  "That is our destination."

It was an awesome sight, one that might leave another breathless and not a little in fear.  But Gwendolyn, gazing at Miles, smiled her secret smile.

They had traversed half the distance to the keep when night fell.  A tent was quickly erected for Miles and Gwendolyn, and food prepared.  Later, Miles and Gwendolyn walked in the night beneath a myriad of stars and were silent, content with themselves and the peace they had found.

But when Miles turned back to their tent, Gwendolyn stopped him.  "I know this is difficult for you to accept, and I will never be truly able to offer thanks for this gift you have given me."

Miles had never spoken of that day by the cave, but he had thought about it a great deal.  His family had been a part of this land from time immemorial, and although Christianity had grown strong in England, the old beliefs had not fled the way the Christians had wanted and demanded.  Because of that, and because of his heritage, Miles could not deny what had happened at Gwendolyn's cave.  Yet, it had taken him a long time to adjust to the idea that his wife was not just a woman, that she was far more than that.  His love, and the powerful desires that had filled him from the moment he'd met her, had not diminished, and by the time they'd left Radstock and started on this very journey, he'd accepted what his wife was, and knew he must help her.

"And what of our children?" he asked in a low voice.  "We will have strong, powerful children to carry on in the future," Gwendolyn assured him.

"I mean, what if you are now with child? Will you give up your training?"

"I am not with child, nor will I be until the proper time.

But fret not, for we shall leave our mark on this land for untold generations yet to come," she promised him, and Miles could not but believe her.

"Come, Husband, it is time for our sleep." She whispered, but Miles heard within her voice, not the call for sleep, but the call for a sharing of themselves, as they had almost every night since their first joining.

Silently, they entered the tent, undressed, and came together on the softness of the rush mat beneath them.  Their lovemaking was strong and swift this time.  Miles entered her quickly, his passion strong and urgent, made so by the unrest in his mind.

Afterward, with Miles's head resting on her breast, and her hand stroking his hair gently, Gwendolyn thought about the future, and about the hard days ahead.

It was almost dawn when she fell into a light sleep, but when she and Miles were awakened by Arthur, she rose refreshed and expectant, knowing that this day would be her last as Gwendolyn.  On the morrow, when she woke again in the high keep, she would be treated by all as a man, and as a knight-in-training.

But for Miles, this night's sleep had left him unrefreshed.

He had dreamed deeply and had awakened long before Gwendolyn, his mind filled with the pictures he had seen.  He was reluctant to move yet, and while he lay on her soft breast, the very core of his dream seemed to help soothe his mind about what he would be doing with his wife.  He had dreamed of Gwendolyn astride a black stallion, dressed in full armor, her silver sword flashing brightly above her head.  Valkyrie flew in the air over her, and everything about the dream picture seemed right-even the voice he'd heard, an ancient old voice telling him his feet had been set on this path years ago, and that nothing could change what must happen.  Everything he did was preordained, the voice had said, and it was important he accept this and trust in himself and in Gwendolyn.

While he lay silently during the minutes before the dawn, he thought of the dream, and by the time Arthur came to rouse them, Miles realized that his anxiety and fears were gone.  It was then he knew it had been a sign for him, and rather than question further his motives in training Gwendolyn, he banished all doubts and began to look forward to the task.

That afternoon, they reached the old keep.  Its very prominence took Gwendolyn's breath away, and she did not care that Miles gazed at her humorously.  The old keep was surrounded by a half-filled moat, and the barbican across from them was but a high gatehouse.  The bridge was fixed, but in bad repair.  Yet the outer bailey, which they slowly passed through, was completely walled.  Its smooth green expanse had grown wild, but within days, it would again be under control.

The procession stopped at the entrance to the old castle- keep, and Miles dismounted.  He walked to his wife and brought her down to him.  Together they went to the large, closed door.  The wood seemed ageless, but the bolts that secured it were badly discolored.

Miles sighed loudly and tried to open one.  It would not budge.  He turned sideways and lunged against the heavy wood.  Gwendolyn jumped when his shoulder touched the door, but stopped when she heard a protesting groan.  Before everyone's unbelieving eyes, the giant door shifted, and, as its aged and rotted leather hinges shredded, the door collapsed inward.

"You have great strength my husband," Gwendolyn said, trying not to let her smile break forth.

"So it appears," Miles replied dryly, shaking his head.

"Come, let us see what other miracles await us within." Saying that, he took Gwendolyn's hand and led her inside.

At first, Gwendolyn stared helplessly at the stone walls.

They were in terrible disrepair, on the brink of ruination, but after a few moments, she realized that Miles had indeed chosen wisely.  For there would be no petty barons who would storm this keep, hoping to gain lands for themselves.  This was a forgotten place to most, and few of the curious would come to pay visits.

By mid-afternoon, the keep hummed with life, as Miles and Gwendolyn ordered their vassals about in an effort to make the place habitable.

By nightfall their chamber had been prepared by Roweena, who had cleaned and dusted it as best she could.  There was no wood-and-rush bed, but Roweena had doubled the thickness of the mat, so that the endlessly cold stone floor would not bother Miles and Gwendolyn overmuch.

That night, the small retinue feasted together upon the grass of the inner bailey.  A fire roared comfortingly, and even its haunting reflections upon the old stone walls did not dampen anyone's mood.

When the meal was over, Miles stood and gazed down at the dozen faces before him.  Taking a deep breath, he began to speak.  "Tomorrow morning, I want everyone to begin work on the keep.  Lady Gwendolyn and I will be gone for one week.  When we return, I expect to find a habitable dwelling.  Concentrate on the kitchen and the chambers," he said.  Then, he turned to Arthur.  "Go to Abergavenny, and to Lord Skinfrith's keep.  I have already sent word you will be coming.  Return here with all that awaits you," he said.

He extended his hand to Gwendolyn, who rose quickly and stepped to her husband's side.  They walked away together, and when Roweena rose to follow, Miles turned to her.  "We have no need for you tonight," he said.

Roweena stopped and looked at her mistress.  Gwendolyn nodded her head in agreement with Miles, and Roweena returned to the fire and the sleeping mats that were being laid out by the other servants.

A few minutes later, Miles and Gwendolyn entered the chamber they would be sharing for many months.  Within its torch lit confines, Gwendolyn saw two new bundles.  She walked over to them while Miles removed his surcoat.

"Miles?" she asked as she knelt to inspect the covered piles.

Miles did not reply, but merely nodded his head.  Gwendolyn lifted the light coverings and gasped.  Beneath the skins were two identical piles.  On top of each were a shortsword, a bow, and a dagger.  Beneath the weapons were gamboise, chausses, and cuirbouilli scale armor.  When Gwendolyn was finished inspecting these, she looked back at Miles.

"Are you ready now, my lady?" he asked.  "Now?"

"We start tonight.  When everyone is asleep we shall leave.  We will return in a week, and when we do, we shall send everyone, save James and Arthur, back to Radstock.  No one must know what is happening."

"Roweena must stay.  She will never speak of this."

"Can we chance it? She is still a servant.  You trust her that much?" Miles asked.

"I trust her with my life.  Roweena will never tell of what she witnesses."

"It could cost you your life if she does."

"She will not!"

"So be it," Miles declared.  Then, with a sigh, he crossed the distance separating them, and took Gwendolyn into his arms.  Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and the sudden spark of desire that rose within him was hard to push aside.

Gwendolyn sensed his reaction and kissed him deeply.

Within her, too, desire coursed wildly, but even as she accepted this and opened her mouth to him, Miles drew back.

"What?" she asked, troubled by his withdrawal.  "It is not the time.  We must dress."

Gwendolyn stared at him.  "So be it," she replied.

First Miles dressed Gwendolyn.  He had Gwendolyn stand naked before him and he put on her loincloth, and as he did so, he explained everything in the minutest detail.  Then, with the loincloth in place, he lifted another strip of material.

"Your breasts must be bound, for I would see no harm come to them," he whispered, as he gazed at her dark-tipped breasts for a moment.  He draped the cloth across her back, and then crisscrossed it over her breasts, catching each full mound of flesh within the material, and then binding them tightly, pressing them as flat as possible against her chest.